


Let's make this last forever

by chloeanneeee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established History, Established Relationship, First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:56:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chloeanneeee/pseuds/chloeanneeee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote a fic called 23 words and then deleted it as I didn't like where the story was going. However, Ive combined two of the chapters here just because I liked the idea of Dean taking Cas on a date :) Alternate Universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's make this last forever

Shuffling from one foot to the other Dean hovered outside his dates door door. His knuckles were raised and ready to rasp on the door in front of him, but his heart hammering in his chest took over all his control. He could hear blood beating in his ears and the door in front of him turned fuzzy before his eyes. He shook his head, and pulled his jacket around him a bit tighter. He checked his collar once more, deciding finally to undo his top button and the button underneath that. He looked down at himself, and brushed his sweaty palms over his thighs before leaning his fist forward to knock on the door when---  
“I was wondering whether you were ever actually going to knock.” The door swung wide and revealed Castiel standing with one hand on the door and the other on his hip. He was dressed similarly to Dean, though Dean felt like nothing in his presence. A white shirt covered Castiel’s chest and hugged his arms nicely, tucking itself into a pair of well-fitting trousers which ran straight down his thighs, clasping them comfortably, leading to a shiny – but not new, Dean noticed – pair of shoes.   
“You’ve been watching?” Dean blinked, rather appreciative of his decision to unbutton his collar now as he felt his neck flush.  
Castiel shrugged, “Maybe.” He stepped sideways, “do you want to come in?”  
Dean nodded, smiling as he stepped into Castiel’s apartment.. It suited him, Dean decided upon his first deductions. From the plain wallpaper covering the walls, to the exotic picture hanging in a frame on the wall above the sofa. From the large bookcase stretching from the floor to the ceiling (yet not being large enough to contain all of his books, according to the several piles of books on either side of the sofa) to the neatness of his kitchen, all utensils hanging up in their rightful place above the cooker, and the mugs stacked by the sink, and a large absence of washing up – though Dean was certain Castiel hadn’t cleaned up expecting Dean’s presence, he suspected he was just naturally clean, and it forced Dean to judge himself on his own untidiness.   
“Told you it was small.” Dean realised he had been silent for at least a good three minutes as he wondered into Castiel’s two roomed- nope, there’s a door, Dean noticed, must be his bedroom, and as he looked around he guessed his bedroom had an en suite as he could see no sign of a bathroom, cute – _three_ roomed apartment and was under the impression Castiel was nervous at Dean’s judgement.   
“It’s nice.” Dean smiled, honestly, turning to face Castiel who was still standing by the door, which was now closed. “It suits you, Castiel. It’s homely, for an apartment, which is pretty rare to find.” He said truthfully and watched as a smile spread over Castiel’s face.   
“What happened to calling me ‘Cas’?”  
Dean shuffled, bowing his head looking at his feet, smiling. He had given the man an instant nickname the first time they met, he was glad Cas didn’t mind. “Alright, _Cas._ I like your place.”  
“Thank you.” Cas walked towards him and Dean was sure for a moment that he was going to kiss him, but instead walked past him towards the kitchen, but not without brushing his hand against Dean’s wrist as an invitation to follow him. “Would you like a drink? We don’t need to set off just yet, do we?”  
Dean shrugged following Cas into the kitchen, feeling so comfortable in another mans home yet so nervous of putting a single foot wrong. “It’s a nice night.” Dean stated. “A clear night. I was thinking we could walk. But a drink would be nice, too”  
“How about both?” Cas leaned down into the fridge as Dean put his arms on the worktop and relaxed into it. Cast popped up the other side with two beers in his hands and clicked the tops off smoothly before passing Dean one, “I thought you might be a little sick of coffee by now?”  
Dean just smiled, clinking his beer against Castiel’s and taking a swig, letting the liquid swallow up his nerves.  
\---  
Less than half an hour later the two men were walking down Cas’ road towards the riverbank, where a few restaurants and pubs were located, amongst a single supermarket and a library.  
“A librarian?”   
“In my retirement, yes.” Cas confessed. “It would be a relaxing job, spent by organising books and being surrounded by some of the best stories in the world.”  
“Sounds nice-“ Dean’s stepping faltered as Cas’ shoulder bumped into his.  
“You’re not very good at hiding sarcasm, you know.” Cas laughed, “You could at least be a little more subtle.”  
“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” Dean held up his hands in defeat, “It’s just not for me. But, whatever floats your boat etc.”  
“What is for you then?” Cas asked, “I mean, what do you work in now?”   
“Contract management.” Dean stated, suddenly realised how little he and Cas knew each other and when the last time was when he had to explain his job to someone because they didn’t know what he did for a living, and he definitely couldn’t remember the last time he had explained it whilst on a date – he didn’t think he ever had.   
“Sounds fun.” Cas stated once Dean had finished explaining his job.  
“Hey, what happened to no sarcasm?”  
“Whatever floats your boat, etc.?” Cas chuckled, and Dean watched as his breath escaped into the night.   
“Well it doesn’t exactly float mine, but it’s the family business, see. Dad owned it well before me and Sammy were born, and if I’m honest if I didn’t take it on I reckon there wouldn’t even be a business to talk about now.”  
“You sound angry.” Cas tilted his head, “Why are you angry?”   
“I’m not.” Dean shrugged, “Not any more. I was, but then I faced up to my responsibilities as a Son and sorted things out. If I didn’t take the company on then Sammy wouldn’t be on his way to being the best lawyer this city’s ever seen, so it’s been worth it.” Dean sighed, wanting the change the subject. Family wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about, after all, especially when it came to his. “So what about you, anyway?” He bumped Cas’ shoulder with his own, feeling the backs of their knuckles graze together and resisted the temptation to grab onto his hand. This was technically their first date, and Dean was doing anything to let it run as smoothly as possible, and almost wanted to do it properly – starting from scratch, boy meets boy, boy takes boy to lunch, boy walks boy home, kisses on the doorstep out in the rain, etc. Dean liked Cas enough to respect the tradition of first dates, and on every date he had seen on movies, they didn’t hold hands until after the meal. Dean didn’t want to break any unwritten rules. “We’re about ten minutes away from this restaurant and all I’ve done is complain about my job and complain about your retirement plan. What do you do now?”   
Cas shrugged, “this and that.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked up the sky, knowing that he couldn’t see Dean’s eyes if the stars were distracting him.   
“So what’s this and what’s that?” Dean pressed carefully, realising later rather than sooner that Cas obviously felt secretive over his job details.  
“It’s silly, really. Well, compared to your big company and contract management.” Cas shrugged, switching his eyes from the stars to the river, facing his head away from Dean.  
“I’m sure it’s not. I’m sure it’s not as boring.” Cas only shrugged again, and Dean touched a hand to its arm. “It’s okay, Cas.”  
Cas turned to face him. “I don’t really talk to anyone about it.” Dean frowned, wondering what Cas could possibly be so ashamed of to hide from him and everyone else the man knew. His stomach dropped, and as did his face, but Cas had no time to see it as he had turned away from Dean again. “But if you really want to know…”  
“Only if you feel comfortable talking about it.” Dean said, tentatively. He could think of a few jobs that a man would want to keep secret from another, and those popping into his head now were not ones that would suit Cas’ clean appearance and tidy apartment, but all were highly likely.   
“I’m a writer.”   
“What?” Dean almost scoffed, his shoulders dropping as relief gushed throat him.  
“I write. You know…” Cas turned to face him, stopping dead in the street. “I write stories!”  
“And that’s it?”  
“What do you mean is that it?”  
“That’s what you’re so secretive about?” Cas just shrugged, nodding. “Jesus, Cas!” Dean’s head fell back laughing.  
“Why?” Cas raised an eyebrow, grabbing Dean’s arm with his hand to try to steady the other man’s laughter. “What on earth did you think I was talking about?”  
“This and that? Don’t like talking about it?” Dean quoted Cas, “I thought you were onto something a little dirtier than being something a poetic as a _writer!_ ”  
“Like what?” Cas’ jaw dropped as Dean widened his eyes as a response, “You thought I was some sort of…. _male prostitute?_ ”  
Dean laughed again, “I was sort of hoping you weren’t!” Cas’ jaw remained slack as he watched Dean loudly laugh in the street. “Besides, you don’t look the type.” Dean stated once his laughter had subdued.   
“Well…thanks!”  
“What’s so shameful about being a writer anyway?” Dean asked, as he and Cas began to walk again, the air feeling a lot more comfortable than it had done a few minutes ago.   
“Er, that’s a _failed_ writer and a part time college teacher.” Cas shrugged. “My family refuse to bring up my job whenever we have guests or visit the extended family, they say it’s no such career that a life plan should be based on. They say it’s too unpredictable. I mean, they’re right, but I’ve never enjoyed anything as much as I enjoy writing, I’m not going to let my family force me into something else.” Cas finished his sentence abruptly.  
“Good on you.” Dean murmured, filling the silence.  
“For what?”  
“Sticking it to the family, doing what you want you want in life. Takes guts.”  
“Oh, Dean, I didn’t mean that you don’t-“  
Dean held up a hand, “Don’t be silly, Cas. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Different circumstances, right? I’m happy for you, being able to stand up against your family like that. Besides, my job beats being a male prostitute, right?” Dean smiled and Cas felt himself relax. He noticed they were at the door of their designated restaurant and looked to Dean to see him fiddling with his palms and shuffling his feet. Dean felt the pool in his stomach fill with nerves again, yet they all melted away when he saw Cas smile at him and hold out his hand towards him.  
Dean took it, interlacing their fingers and tracking Cas’ knuckles with the tip of his thumb, taking in every cell of skin, and leaving his fingerprint imbedded on him.   
Dean liked holding Cas’ hand as they walked through the restaurant together towards their table, and he never was one for sticking to the rules – whether those rules were written or not.   
\---  
The food was nice, though Cas hardly tasted it. He was too busy spending the evening counting Dean’s freckles across his nose, and noticing how the blush that crept along his cheeks when he caught Cas’ eyes, hid them.   
Dean agreed the food was nice, but what was nicer was how it felt comfortable to reach across the table just to touch Cas’ hand. He liked the way it felt underneath his fingertips, and how his skin reacted to Dean’s touch and how Dean was sure he could feel Cas’ blood pumping harder under his skin, flushing to the surface, whenever Dean’s thumb caressed a knuckle.   
Cas liked listening to Dean talk. He enjoyed the way Dean spoke about the details of his job, and though he may not like it, it was clear that he was proud of his work. Whether he was proud of the success of the company, or just proud of himself for helping his Father, Cas wasn’t entirely sure. Cas relished in the way Dean spoke about his brother though, Sam, _Sammy._ He was a proud brother, but an even prouder friend to his sibling and Cas found himself feeling jealous at the relation he had, but also happy for Dean that he had such a connection with his brother.   
Cas though, much preferred the way that Dean laughed, especially when it was he who had made him laugh to begin with. He liked the way his eyes creased and closed with the pressure of his chuckle, and the way his head rocked back, exposing his neck, as he clasped a hand to his chest. He especially liked the way the corner of Dean’s lips lifted before he even began to laugh, like Dean _knew_ that he was going to laugh, like he _knew_ that whatever was going to come out of Cas’ mouth next would be funny, or happy and would make him laugh. Every time Dean did that (it happened often, Cas noticed. Dean found him funny, and it was a nice feeling) Cas was tempted to stop mid-sentence, and sacrifice hearing Dean’s laughter, just so he could lean across the table and gently kiss the corner’s of Dean’s mouth, but he held his temptations close and kept them locked away for the time being.   
Dean liked watching Cas fidget. He liked watching as Cas felt nervous, and liked knowing that it was him that made the other man rub his hands together as they sweat, before they disappeared under the table to be wiped on the top of Cas’ thighs. He liked watching Cas’ reaction whenever they were interrupted by the waiter asking for their order, or asking if the food was okay ( _Yes, it’s fine thank you, though I can hardly taste it because I’m swallowing it so damn fast because it distracts me from listening to Cas, or watching Cas, or talking to Cas, or Cas, Cas, Cas Dean was tempted to say, though didn’t._ ). Cas shuffled his bum into the seat, and Dean was sure that by the end of the night there would be no seat left due to his constant squirming, but he thought it was cute and didn’t mind one bit.   
Dean though, much preferred when he could stop Cas’ fidgeting. He liked leaning over and tapping Cas’ hand with the tips of his fingers, bringing his eyes to his own and sending a single smile across the table. He liked the feeling of making a seemingly confident writer nervous, but he much preferred the feeling of knowing that he can also be the one to calm him down.   
Dean asked for the bill and Cas hardly had time to argue before Dean shoved a few notes into the waiter’s hand. Dean told him to shut his mouth when he told Dean that he was more than willing to pay half the bill, as they made their way out of the restaurant, but Dean told him that he didn’t want Cas to pay half the bill. Dean said he wanted to take Cas out, and that is exactly what he was doing. Cas sighed, telling Dean that he would pay for them both the next time.  
“There’s going to be a next time?” Dean looked across at Cas as they walked back down the road towards Cas’ apartment.   
Cas smiled, rubbing his hands together in that adorable way that he had been doing all night and shrugged, “If you want there to be.” Cas smiled even wider as he saw Dean’s lips lifting into a smile once again. He rubbed his hands harder, interlinking his own fingers, until he felt another set of fingers twist their way into the grasp. He looked down to see Dean’s hand over his, and Dean’s fingers making their way into his, and Cas decided that he liked the way it looked. He let his hand fall, securely attached to Dean’s and they carried on walking.   
“Dude, your palms are sweaty.” Dean grimaced, but didn’t let go.  
“Sorry. They do that.” Cas shrugged, Dean smiled, and it was nice.   
After a few seconds, Dean spoke again. “You’re pretty nervous for such a confident guy.”   
Cas smirked, “I’m sure there’s logic in there somewhere.”  
“I mean you’re just different to how I expected.”   
A lump formed somewhere in Cas’ throat, but he swallowed it down to speak “Different?” Dean nodded. “Good different, or bad different?”  
“Just different.” Dean squeezed Cas’ hand and smiled at him, dimples forming in his cheeks and Cas decided to unlock his temptations and let them wonder. He tugged on Dean’s hand pulling him round so he stood in front of him, gripped onto the lapel’s of Dean’s suit jacket with his free fingers and leaned his face slowly forward and kissed him.   
First he kissed his dimples that softly dented either side of Dean’s face, kissing them as they formed from Dean smiling at the feeling of Cas feathering his cheeks in kisses. He moved lower and gave into his nightlong temptation and kissed the corner of Dean’s mouth, and felt the other man’s lips tug upwards into a wider smile beneath his own. He felt Dean’s hand squeeze his as his other one wrapped it’s self round Cas’ waist, pulling his body into Dean’s until he didn’t know where he ended and Dean began – they were a solid line. Cas hesitated and felt Dean’s breath warm on his face. Dean’s nose touched the tip of his own, teasing with the touch before Dean dipped his face and pressed their lips together. It was a desperate kiss, as though it was between two lovers who had been parted for too long, yet it was tender and slow. It was certain, as Cas was so sure they both wanted this as he felt Dean’s heart beat against his own rib cage. It was _inevitable;_ it was as though every moment in the evening had been adding up to equal to this and as both men broke apart for air (though Cas was sure he could live on Dean’s breath and he never needed oxygen again) they realised how little they knew about each other, but neither of them seemed to care as they leant into each other’s touch and decided on whether they should stand on the side of the road for the rest of the night, enveloped in each other, and risk death by pneumonia or whether they should continue walking. Cas tugged on Dean’s hand, choosing the latter, because even though he knew that if he were to die that night he would die happy, he knew that he would much prefer to have at least one more day with Dean and he wasn’t entirely sure if that thought scared him or if it made him so happy that he felt he could grow wings and fly.


End file.
